Not Likely
by Khiori
Summary: AU: Had Spock decided to part ways with Saavik after her pon farr, instead of marrying her (see the novel Vulcan's Heart for their romance) and an 'old friend' calls. (written for someone who wanted a Saa/A story, even though we both agreed it wouldn't be 'likely'


Saavik rolled the wine in her glass and eyed the door uneasily.

"Ah, my lovely Little Cat, you came."

Saavik winced and gave Achernar a dark glower as he slipped smoothly into the alcove. "You are late."

He smiled thinly and bowed. "Forgive my lack of Vulcan punctuality." He poured himself some wine and drank thirstily.

Saavik's eyes narrowed further and she studied him slowly. "I was . . . concerned." A slight frown touched her lips. "You are unwell."

Achernar swallowed hard and sat his glass down. He flashed his most charming smile. "I am never unwell. Was the journey arduous?"

Saavik leaned forward. "Misdirection is an art perfect solely by Vulcans." Her piercing gaze moved over his face. "You are flushed, your eyes are fevered and," her mouth quirked as her gaze fell over his fine clothes, "your attire is less than immaculate. What is wrong?"

Achernar looked away.

Saavik waited patiently.

He picked up his wine glass, fingering the stem absently. "I would prefer we have this conversation in private."

Saavik studied him quietly. "I am not . . . certain . . . privacy would be wise."

His eyes flashed fire and he set the glass down hard enough to crack it. "You think very low of me."

Saavik sighed a long sigh. "Would I have crossed the Zone if I truly thought so?" She met his glare with reproving eyes. "Or is it _you_ who thinks low of me?"

Achernar's glare melted. He lowered his eyes again. " _Never_. I ask forgiveness." He rubbed his face tiredly. "I must go. I should not have asked you to come. I . . . do not know what I was thinking. I ask forgiveness."

Saavik's face softened. "There is nothing to forgive."

He looked up, confused.

She hesitated a moment and the picked up her glass and drank the last of it. She rose, gathering her cloak about her. "Where is this private place?"

His eyes flared bright with sudden hope and then he swallowed. He smiled weakly. "Your Mr. Spock would not approve. Perhaps we should acquire a . . . chaperone?"

Saavik snorted. "I do not think a chaperone would be . . . appropriate." Her eyes slid to the great arching windows across the room. The stars could only be faintly seen from where she stood. Her voice grew quiet. "And we are merely friends." She looked back at Achernar and then walked slowly to stand over him. "You called. I have come."

He looked away. "This is . . . different." He looked back up at her and smiled weakly. "This is no mission to save the Empire or your Federation."

Saavik touched his silver hair lightly. "It is called pon farr," she said quietly. "Which, I believe, you know."

He laughed, but his eyes held fear. "But . . . but I am Romulan!"

Saavik's face was sober. "All Romulans were Vulcans once." Her eyes glinted humorlessly. "Although it is . . . not spoken of, there are still some Romulans who know the Fires." Her eyes narrowed at him. "Which, I also believe, you know."

"But . . . I am no young man!"

She touched his hair again. "For Romulans, there is no early coming." Her face grew self-wry. "I thought I was free of the Fires. But they merely came . . . later." Her eyes grew distant. "I was caught rather . . . off guard."

He inhaled sharply. "What did you . . . who did you . . . .?" Then he colored angrily and looked away. "I assume friend Spock came to the rescue."

"Then you assume incorrect."

Achernar's eyes widened and he turned back quickly.

Saavik lifted an eyebrow calmly, making his eyes narrow thoughtfully. Abruptly he frowned. "When I . . . contacted you, did you know my . . . condition?"

Saavik's lips turned. "I suspected." She eyed his flushed countenance. "You were more . . . intense than what your nature normally is. However, I had to see for myself if what I suspected was true."

His face became very, very still. "But you came? You suspected and . . . . yet you came _anyway_? Why would you do that for me?"

Saavik touched his face hesitantly. "Why did you once offer worlds to me?"

Achernar lowered his eyes. "I do not think you will believe me."

Saavik found that darkly ironic. "Perhaps. Or perhaps I once did." His eyes widened and she lifted her chin, changing the subject firmly. "As I have noted, you wished for my company once. And now that you have need of it, you seem to change your mind." Her eyebrow lifted. "I am beginning to be offended."

Achernar looked truly alarmed and rose, moving to grasp her arms tightly. "No!" Heads turned and he swallowed, lowering his tone. "No. I just. . ." his proud shoulders sagged. "I just. . . ."

"Wished to play the rogue seducer instead of the ill man."

Achernar grimaced terribly. "You are a brutal woman."

Saavik's eyes glinted. "I daresay your ego will survive." Then she grew serious again. Her eyebrow lifted. "Now, do you prefer that private place or will you wait until the full Fires claim you right here?"

Achernar blushed and glared at her. Then his mouth twitched and he laughed. He stepped close and took her face in his hands, his eyes bright and as impish as she ever remembered. "Promise to honor me in the morning?"

Saavik felt his Fires surge through the fingers brushing her temples and begin to heat her. And she actually smiled. "Not likely."

It was done. The days and nights of the Fires were gone. Saavik lay sleeping in his arms and he would give more than worlds to hold this quiet moment forever. He gently drew a bed silk over them both and smiled in delight when the action only made her murmur and settle closer. Hidden away from the universe, this place was warmly shadowed with no stars to disturb them with memories. Soon it would be time to leave. He to his Empire and her to her Federation. The old barriers would undoubtedly be back in place and she would become again an unobtainable desire.

But not now. Now, he watched her sleep and relished the simple joy of it. His gaze slid slowly over, as his fingertips had done in their pleasure, admiring the way her back curved, how her thigh lay, the sweeping line of her throat.

She shifted again in her sleep and he held his breath. But she stilled mercifully, her fingers curling into the silk, and he breathed out very, very quietly in relief.

She was still his for a while longer. His smile grew wry.

As far as Saavik could be anyone's.


End file.
